Somewhere in America, someone is waking up this morning and saying, “Wait, what? There’s an election?” I cannot tell you how much I envy that person.
Somewhere in America, someone is waking up this morning and saying, “Wait, what? There’s an election?” I cannot tell you how much I envy that person.
Whatever good you may think you are doing for your community by voting, you can do far more simply by bagging up your leaves instead of dumping them in the street. Thank you.
Two fishermen running down the beach trying to reel in a big one, hooting like Slim Pickens riding the bomb.
And then this. It is one of the annoyances of my life that this happens every day and I almost never see it. We have these great gifts and we have traded them for… Raleigh?
The rising sun broke through the clouds this morning like the pulsing craquelure of dying firelogs. The camera would not have done it justice.
Here is a proposition to ponder: the dog is both a living creature and a technology.
Another view of the front yard. I thought about posting a campaign sign for the city election, but there is, as you can see, simply no room.
Having survived (barely) the heat and drought of June, the front-yard flower meadow rebounded and is still full of life. The tall orange cosmos are the latest wave—trying, I guess, to prove that the last shall be first…
In an effort to appear to be lighthearted, I’ll repost this from 2012: The angry poet lashes out at his solicitors on election day.